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Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Opportunity in Illness

July 2010: miscarriage

Fall 2010: pain, loss of mobility

January 2011: dual RA/AS diagnosis

February 2011: cane

April 2011: mentor's death

May 2011: loss of
a friend

This was my timeline of pain at the onset of Rheumatoid Arthritis.
Misery doesn't cut such shallow lines of course, it sculpts cavernous ruins. Navigating
the crevasse with only a sense of where you slid down makes coping with chronic
illness an extreme sport.

It's a natural human reaction to ruminate on loss. Loss
after loss in my 30th year spawned an intoxicating
odyssey of negativity. I spent days, months, and over a year wallowing in pitch
black. There were paths my feet would
never see again.

It was juvenile and
Pollyannaish to look for happy moments as I brooded from my couch each day. Alienation
cut me off from sources of viable assistance; communication with friends and
family, successful fellow RA'ers, and life beyond the illness.

RA happened to me. How could I fight back when I was
perpetually pinned down? It was a moment
by moment struggle to reframe my focus. As little happy moments popped up day to day, I noted them and let
them go, regardless of how miniscule. The fat chattering squirrel outside. The ice
blue delphinium in the garden. I did the
same with the monsters.I will never
dance again. I'll never hold a baby in my weak arms. Time ticked away those
moments, and they gradually lost their identity, becoming a shapeless mass of
thought. Through tears my state became changeable, dynamic. I wasn't the passive loser in the
genetic lottery as I'd originally thought. I could still experience good with
the bad. All those thoughts were that, simply thoughts.

Months passed as I clawed my way out from the dark, and I knew I would never be the same woman I was pre-diagnosis. It was unrealistic to expect that I would
be. But I had an opportunity in this illness for change. To better myself, to
form meaningful connections with other human beings instead of remaining adrift
in cold misery.

Life is brutal, it is beautiful. Recognize both. Aim to hold the good and glorious as much as
you may dwell on what's wrong. Move outside your timeline of pain. It's up to you how you get there as we each
travel our own path in this life. By embracing the positive you open yourself to
opportunity beyond the illness.

Good news Joan! Exercising can be tough; what works some days won't on others. It can be difficult to judge what is safe for your joints. My rheumy's rule of thumb: if it hurts, stop.Here's hoping your journey is filled with light!